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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23100949">Burial to Follow</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarvesandjumpers/pseuds/scarvesandjumpers'>scarvesandjumpers</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Garden You Never Get To See [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Steven Universe (Cartoon)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Death, Dysfunctional Family, F/M, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Minor Character Death, Minor Original Character(s), Nonbinary Character</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 13:34:04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,616</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23100949</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarvesandjumpers/pseuds/scarvesandjumpers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Dante  DeMayo</p><p>1943 – 2020</p><p>Please join us in celebrating the life of beloved father, brother, and uncle, Dante DeMayo. A visitation service will be held at Sassman's Chapel in Rest Port, Delmarva from 12pm to 3pm. Burial to follow at St. Cashway's Cemetery. </p><p>---</p><p>Or, how Greg Universe came to be.</p><p>ON HIATUS until I inevitably get back on my SU kick lol</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Connie Maheswaran/Steven Universe, Greg Universe &amp; Steven Universe, Rose Quartz/Greg Universe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Garden You Never Get To See [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1583893</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>64</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Burial to Follow</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Dante  DeMayo</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>1943 – 2020</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Please join us in celebrating the life of beloved father, brother, and uncle, Dante DeMayo. A visitation service will be held at Sassman's Chapel in Rest Port, Delmarva from 12pm to 3pm. Burial to follow at St. Cashway's Cemetery. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>---</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As she took a few steps back from her work, Connie wiped sweat from her brow and let out a satisfied sigh. She surveyed her surroundings with pride; the newest loft was coming along nicely, if she did say so herself. Summer heat steamed through the open windows of the newest gem residence, and a warm breeze tousled her hair – nearly to her shoulders again, she really needed to get it cut – as she admired her work. Steven was down below putting together another desk, and she could hear him quietly singing along to the speaker they'd set up when they first arrived earlier that morning. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Moving forward, I'm moving forward..... </span>
  </em>
  <span> She made her way to the ladder leading down below and made her way down. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Steven was on his rear in the center of the room, one hand plunged into his thick hair and the other gripping a set of paper instructions, the desk in pieces around him. His bomber jacket was draped over a nearby chair and his feet were bare. He sighed heavily and tossed the instructions onto the ground, then flopped onto his back with a groan, Connie stood over him, hand on her hip. He gave her a miserable frown, and she cocked a hip. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Steven. How many of these have you put together now?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Roughly four billion. Or like. Twelve. The right number's in there somewhere.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Connie laughed, crouching down and gently pushing his hands from his hair. He let her, his smile playful, if a bit tired, and their eyes shut together as she leaned down to give his forehead a quick peck. “Come on, Universe. You've faced greater foes than this. Want me to take a look?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If you want. You'll probably have better luck than me,” Steven sighed. He sat up as Connie shifted onto her rear next to him, reaching for the instructions. She felt Steven tuck some of her hair from her face behind her ear and bit down a grin. He leaned into her, resting his chin on her shoulder as he read over her shoulder. His breath brushed her cheek as he breathed; Connie was hyperaware of her own body, of the sweat pooled at the small of her back, of the sensation of his chin resting on her bare shoulder. Her mouth went dry as Steven shuffled, nosing a bit closer to her, and oh Stars, she was so </span>
  <em>
    <span>sweaty, </span>
  </em>
  <span>what if she smelled? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Any luck understanding it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?” Connie blinked. “Oh! The instructions – right, um. One second.” She scowled at herself, curling up a bit and trying her best to focus on the paper in her hand. She could feel Steven grin, and she felt her face heat up as he shifted off of her. She both wanted him to lean back onto her and was thankful for the space. An uncomfortable, wonderful contradiction that was growing more and more infrequent, thankfully. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Twenty minutes and a little bit of reading later the desk was put together and nudged into it's home in the corner. They walked through the little apartment one last time before calling it a day. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Little Homeworld was buzzing with activity as they made their way through the little town. Although Steven no longer worked as a teacher or helped plan the curriculum of the school he still found the time to help out with odd jobs now and then – the apartments were his current project. Bismuth was constantly working on new residential buildings for the ever-growing population of Gems that had decided to stay on Earth, but setting them up to be lived in was an entirely different task. Beds, dressers, desks, televisions, and proper kitchenware were all essentials, even if the Gems living in the apartments weren't partial to all of it. They'd never learn if they never had the chance to try, and what better place to learn what they did and didn't like than in their own homes? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Connie tossed their shared toolkit into the back seat of the Dondai as Steven settled into the driver's seat. She slipped in next to him as he cranked the radio; she grinned when she recognized the band playing over the speakers. Natural Juice Resort, one of her favorites. She caught Steven's eye as he backed his way onto the main road, and her grin widened when he blushed, caught out. </span>
  <em>
    <span>When you were young you were the king of carrot flowers....</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>If she reached out and held his hand as he drove – well. There were worse things, right? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After a quick lunch at Fish Stew Pizza, Steven and Connie headed home. They didn't have much more planned for the day, and home was as good a place as any to hang out. Little Homeschool was still in session, so the house was empty when they arrived. There was an awkward distance between the two of them as they made themselves drinks and put together some snacks for the next leg of their day. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They settled on Steven's bed, shoulder to shoulder with a movie they'd both watched to death on the TV for white noise. They both sank into their own thing – Connie flipping absently through a book for school, Steven on his phone. The longer they sat the more they sank into each other until Connie found herself fully leaning into Steven's chest, his chin tucked comfortably on top of her head, his arm barred gently against her belly as he held her. It was dead comfortable, and as time went on she felt her eyes drooping. She marked her page and shifted onto her side, curling one arm under his back and the other over his soft belly. She sighed happily as Steven's hand settled comfortably on her hip. She hummed, smiling, and as she sank into a doze heard him murmur, “Yeah. Me, too.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pearl calling for Steven broke her out of her doze some hours later. She shifted, yawning into Steven's chest. She stretched, rubbed at her eyes, and tilted her head up to give him a sleepy smile. He returned it, looking much the same as her; he must have fallen asleep, too. “Yeah, we're home! Be down in a second!” He called down. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The kiss he gave her made her skin tingle and a smile spread over her lips. She leaned up for another few kisses, grinning and giggling into each other's smiling faces before they heard the telltale sound of Amethyst bounding up the stairs. One last kiss, and they pulled apart, exchanging a few shy smiles as they tidied themselves up after their impromptu nap. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yo, I'm coming in, nobody better be </span>
  <em>
    <span>nakeeeed!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Amethyst crowed as she busted through Steven's bedroom door. Steven and Connie blushed as she flopped onto the bed between them, and they heard Pearl half-heartedly chide her from downstairs as she bounced a few times on the bed before striking a pose between them. “Conn-man! Nice to see ya, girl. Been a bit. How long are you staying?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Amethyst! It's good to see you. Just a few days, unfortunately.” She was thankful her parents trusted her enough to let her stay overnight at all with Steven and his family, much less a few days, sometimes weeks at a time. Summer vacation was in full swing, and she'd be back soon, but her annual family trip was coming up and she needed time to help pack. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Booo. Where are you guys going for vacation this year, anyways?” Amethyst asked, absently playing with her white-gray hair. Connie grinned. “Empire City, actually,” she said. “It's going to be half vacation, half school tours.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Empire City isn't that far at all!” Amethyst chirped, popping up with a broad smile. “That's only, like, what, three hours away? That would be rad!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It would! I'd like to stay in-state,” Connie admitted, glancing at Steven over the Gem's shoulder. He smiled tightly at her, and she felt an unfair stab of guilt. Steven had never said anything to make her feel bad about moving even further away for school, but he didn't really need to. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The worst part was that she knew he didn't </span>
  <em>
    <span>mean</span>
  </em>
  <span> it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pearl broke the tension by calling them down to help set up for dinner, and the three of them scurried down to comply. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>---</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dinner was a vegetarian lasagna prepared by Amethyst, Steven, and Connie with Pearl's careful supervision. Steven and Connie shared bites of tomato and hunks of mozzarella as Pearl patiently taught them what to do; she'd embraced the new challenge in finding meals for Steven to eat and learn to prepare. Amethyst wandered between the stove and the kitchen table picking bits of plastic and food out of her teeth (which Pearl indulgently ignored) as she talked. Garnet sat with them as well, smiling quietly as usual. It felt good, easy – not quite like old times, but then nothing ever really felt like old times anymore. That wasn't necessarily a bad thing, just.... an adjustment. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Satisfied with her lasagna lecture, Pearl made her way over to the sink to start on the dishes, Amethyst joining her (for 'moral support', aka eating scraps off of their plates. Gross.) She sorted out the dishes into categories first, as usual, humming under her breath. Amethyst hopped up onto the counter next to the sink, kicking her feet. “Oh, shit, I forgot – Steven?” Amethyst strained out and grabbed a pile of papers, fliers, and envelopes, ignoring Pearl's scolding chide of 'Amethyst, language!' “Your dad got some mail delivered to us. I thought he got that dumb post office stuff fixed already.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh. Weird. Maybe they don't have his new address? He didn't have anything other than a PO box for a while, after all.” Steven pulled out his phone as he settled on the couch next to Connie and Garnet, the two thoughtfully debating on which movie to put on. “I'll text him.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He shuffled through the mail as he did so, grinning to himself when he felt Connie snuggle into his shoulder. Old bill, old bill, junk, junk, and a few art magazines. Standard stuff, for the most part. But the last envelope in the pile made him pause and frown. “That's.... weird.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Connie tilted her head to the side, glancing over the paper. “What is?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This is addressed to Dad, but.... with his old last name. DeMayo. And it's handwritten, not printed.” He frowned a bit deeper, brushing his thumb over the script. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> kinda weird. Maybe it's from an old friend? Or a government thing? Did he get it legally changed, or just socially?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Er. Legally, I'm pretty sure.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Ding!</span>
  </em>
  <span> Steven tore his gaze away from the envelope to check his phone. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You: Hey, you got some mail here, want me to bring it by or do you want to come get it? </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Rad-Dad: Aw, shoot, sorry kiddo. I'll come by and grab it later tonight if you guys'll be up. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You: We will, no problem. Connie's here, you can say hi!</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Rad-Dad: Sounds like a plan, stan! See you in a bit! </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>--- </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>An hour later Dad had arrived. He claimed a chunk of the couch for himself and hugged Connie crazy tight, earning a squeaky giggle from his best friend, and he watched the tail end of the crappy horror movie they were watching with a hand over the back of the couch.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Steven hated the short hair. It was still Dad, obviously, but he'd kept it long his whole life. A dad, in Steven's mind, was a Greg shaped person – big belly, big smile, scruffy stubble, and crazy long brown-sugar hair. He knew his dad was missing it, too; after everything with Bluebird had settled down he'd found his dad crying, really, properly crying over it in the bathroom. Steven might not have fully understood </span>
  <em>
    <span>why </span>
  </em>
  <span>he was crying over something as small as his hair, but he knew it wasn't for silly, stupid reasons. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dad's hair was important to him, and now it was altered and different and wrong. Dad was upset, so Steven was upset. (He wondered, not for the first time, if he could make it grow back with his healing spit. Probably not – it wasn't broken – but maybe he'd offer to try sometime soon.) </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He offered his dad some leftover lasagna and listened to him and Pearl chatting excitedly about their most recent song. Pearl was weirdly shy about her new hobby, but Greg had nothing but good, glowing praise to share. She blushed and fluttered her hands and nudged his shoulder gently, a soft, Pearl-esque version of roughhousing. Amethyst busted out a bottle of wine for herself and Greg, and Steven couldn't stop smiling as his family piled onto the couch with him. No movie necessary – just the six of them in the dark living room, the warm light from the fireplace turning their faces different shades of orange and brown. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Steven fell into a light sleep with a smile on his face, and when he woke up everything was.... different. Wrong. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The fire was burnt down to embers, softly glowing, but warm. Connie was asleep, her head tucked into his shoulder, her thick, deep brown hair tickling his chin. Amethyst snored loudly from somewhere under the couch, and Garnet, Pearl, and Greg were in the kitchen. Steven sniffed sleepily, shifting a bit under the blanket, but trying not to disturb Connie. He could hear soft conversation from the other Gems and his dad, but this wasn't like earlier that night. Not warm, loose, easy, but tense and shaking and lost.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He blinked confusedly out at the kitchen. Garnet had her lips pursed into a frown, arms crossed over her chest as she leaned against the kitchen counter. Greg and Pearl were seated at the table; Greg's head was bowed, a hand cupping the top of his balding head, and Pearl had a thin, delicate arm draped over his shoulders comfortingly. “I'm so sorry, Greg,” she said, voice hushed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>What? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Steven extracted himself from Connie as quickly and carefully as possible and stumbled into the kitchen, frowning deeply. He stepped up behind his dad – Pearl and Garnet glanced up at him, and he saw their expressions tighten. “Dad?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Greg jumped slightly, straightening up tensely and tilting his head up to see Steven. Steven was horrified at the damp eyes and the pained, confused expression on his face, but even more so at the weak smile his father gave him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Schtu-ball. Sorry, did we wake you up?” Garnet cleared her throat awkwardly and began to rifle around in the kitchen cupboards; Pearl slipped her hand off of Greg and curled them over her chest, biting at her lower lip. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What's.... wrong?” His eyes scanned over the table top, and there – there it was, the weird, wrongly-named letter for Gregory DeMayo, a stranger. Of coruse it had something to do with that. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Steven glanced between the three of them. Garnet wordlessly placed two cups of water on the table in front of Greg and Steven, then briefly pressed her wide, strong palm to Pearl's shoulder. They exchanged a look, and Pearl nodded wordlessly and stood. She squeezed Steven's hand, then shuffled out of the room with Garnet, arms crossed tight over her chest. Greg sighed, watching them head deeper into the temple into their own rooms, then nudged his foot to push Pearl's now-empty chair out for Steven. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Take a seat, kiddo.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey sup I'm back on my angsty bullshit. This should only be three chapters? But who knows 🤷 I'm basically just writing out my headcanons, hope you enjoy. </p><p>And yes, that IS a parody band of Neutral Milk Hotel. I'm a basic bitch who loves weird sad indie music and I think Connie would eat that shit up. </p><p>Comments fuel me more than anything else!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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